


Fathoms Below

by morganoconner



Category: Little Mermaid (1989), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaid, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 09:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a Son of Triton, a young merman who was adopted into the ruling family of Atlantica when he was only a baby. Tasked by the late King Orion to protect the waters from the evil that seeks to infest them, Sam has honed his skills as protector, guardian, and hunter. For the most part, it's a life he's happy to live. He's dreamt of human lands his whole life but has no desire to ever see them for himself…until he saves a man named Dean and can’t ignore the instant, intense connection between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fathoms Below

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first round of [](http://super-disney.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://super-disney.livejournal.com/)**super-disney** , for the prompt _The Little Mermaid_.

The water was cold and the current was strong here, but Sam didn't let either of those things deter him from his task. He'd followed the Hell creatures this far; he wasn't going to let them escape now.

 _Eels_ , and not just any eels, but demonic spies. It was enough to make his stomach churn.

Galen had been the first to notice them. The crown prince of Atlantica hadn't known them for what they were, but Sam recognized the description easily enough once he heard about their glowing eyes. The queen had given him a look, and he'd nodded once, strapped his blade to his arm, and swam for the reef where they'd been spotted.

Finding them had been child's play. Even beneath the sea, they reeked of sulfur, a stench strong enough to make a lesser merman recoil. But Sam had been protecting these waters for a long time now, and no matter how contemptible the creatures were, he knew how to deal with them.

It was finding the demon the spies belonged to that would be a trial. Sam wasn't about to give up his tail to go after it on land, so hopefully it would be near the water. If it was, he'd find it. And dispose of it.

It's what he did.

In simpler times, it was King Orion who was the guardian and defender. Those were the days when demons and witches and monsters were things told of in stories, tales from so long ago their origins were practically forgotten. But Orion had never faltered in his duty, and he'd passed the knowledge and training to Sam, his adopted nephew. The last words he'd spoken had been to extract a promise that Sam would do all he could to protect his family, and it was a promise easily given.

After Orion's death at the tentacles of a young kraken, the monsters that the merfolk had stopped believing in suddenly became very real to them again. They also started appearing more and more, coming ever closer to Atlantica. Sam dealt with them as best he could, but he was starting to wonder what was going to happen when there were simply too many for him to handle alone. None of the other merfolk had the skills Sam had, and none seemed very inclined to learn. Except, of course, for Galen, but Galen's mother forbade Sam from teaching him. It hadn't stopped him from teaching the young prince what he could in secret, but that was hardly helpful when what he needed was a partner.

It wasn't that Sam blamed Annora; she'd already lost her husband to one of these things, she didn't want to lose her son as well. Sam understood, he did, but…Galen needed to be able to fight, to defend his people someday. And Sam needed _help_.

But that was a worry for later. Right now was for hunting.

The eels were hiding, but that wouldn't be enough to save them. The water here was murky, the vegetation thick and tangled and sickly-looking. Sam closed his eyes, stretched his senses. Darting around searching would only disturb the waters more, giving them an edge. He was good enough to know that the advantage was his, as long as he knew how to take it.

And he did.

There was a ripple of movement to his left. In a flash, his knife was in hand, and then it was slicing through the water like a torpedo, etched sigils gleaming on the blade as it hit one of his targets with a solid _thunk_ and left it screaming and twitching on the ocean floor.

The other hissed and took off, swimming desperately for the surface. A powerful flip of his tail had Sam darting for his knife, and another had him racing after the second eel, determination driving him forward, fury giving him an advantage.

How dare these things intrude on his home and frighten his family.

Sam was just starting to be able to really make out the light shining on the surface when he finally got close enough to take another shot. His aim was true, but although the knife did some damage, it wasn't a killing shot. The eel curved around back toward him at the last moment.

With a scream of rage, it came for him, fangs bared, hatred flashing in its eerie eyes. Sam's fists clenched, and when it was almost on him, he spun, his tail slamming into the thing with all the power he could muster. He felt a fang slice through his scales, and the pain bit deep, but he couldn't pay attention to that yet. He reached out, grabbed for his blade as it floated through the water, and slammed it home, tearing effortlessly through the eel's dark, slick skin and watching the life drain out of those eyes.

It was an easy kill despite his injury – _two_ easy kills, in fact – and that should have been cause for a little celebration. But he felt the connection between the spy and its demon master ripple around him as the eel died, and if he could feel it, then the demon was close. Above the surface, but not, perhaps, so far from the water that Sam wouldn't be able to do some damage.

He didn't go to the surface often; in fact he usually went out of his way to avoid it entirely. But this…this was something that needed doing. He did a cursory check of the injury to his tail – a deep gash halfway down, but not so deep that his movement would be impaired. It had already almost stopped bleeding.

Good enough for him.

~ ~ ~

It was bright, that was the first thing he noticed. He broke the surface of the water like it was a revelation, head thrown back as he allowed his human lungs to breathe real air, deeper and fuller than his mer gills allowed.

He squinted around, unaccustomed to anything other than the dark depths of Below, but his eyes adjusted quickly enough. The water was calm, the sky cloudless, and there, not even a mile away, that was where he needed to go. A ship, not moving in the water. Too still for this gulf, even this close to land.

There was something unnatural on that boat, and Sam was willing to bet it was his demon.

All right then. He dove back under, gliding fast and effortless through the water toward his target. He ran through several possible plans and mentally chanted the words to three separate exorcisms as he swam. He was going to be prepared, he was going to do serious damage to this –

His thoughts were cut off abruptly just as he neared the ship and something disturbed the water. Something crashing through the surface with more force than gravity alone could account for, and gods, that was a human in the water, sinking fast and completely unmoving.

Sam was torn for half a moment; his objective on the ship above, his instincts trained on the man below. He cursed as the ship started moving away, stared after it for a fraction of a second, and then dove. A few powerful flaps of his tail had him propelling through the water like a bullet, and he easily pulled even with the human. Caught him by the arms and tugged. The dead weight tried to drag him down, but Sam was larger than the unconscious man he was lifting, and his duty to Atlantis, the training he put himself through each and every day, meant he was strong enough not to be too bothered.

They broke the surface awkwardly, and when the man didn't immediately take a breath, Sam felt the first stirrings of panic. Pounding on his back didn't help, and they were too far from land to get him lying down quickly enough to try and help him that way. Only one option left, then, so he ducked back under with his arms wrapped tightly around the man. Let his gills do the breathing for precious moments, and then pressed his mouth to the human's and pushed sweet oxygen into him. Another breath in through gills, another breath out through lungs.

It was called the Breath of Life, and it hadn't been given from mer to man in a very long time. Sam didn't care. He kept breathing, desperate for a response.

 _Live_ , he thought. _You have to live._

Breathe in, breathe out.

In, and out.

Against him, the man jerked, coughed out. Bubbles floated above them to the surface. Sam pressed his mouth more firmly to the human's, gripped his waist tightly as he kept breathing, fighting the man's instinctive panic.

Wide green eyes met his when he finally, finally felt he could pull away. He brought them up slowly, gentled his grip when they pushed above the surface again. The man took a few frantic breaths, tried to scrabble away and ended up drinking a few gulps of seawater when his struggles made him almost sink again.

Sam tried not to find it endearing, but it sort of was. "If you calm down," he said softly, "I can get you back to land in a short time." A few miles, maybe. An easy trek, as long as the human didn't fight him.

"You…what…who the fuck are you?"

He was treading water in a frantic sort of way. Not an accomplished swimmer, obviously, and even if he'd been perfectly fine to begin with, Sam sort of doubted he'd have survived out here for long by himself. "I'm a friend," he replied. "I only want to help you."

He got only a suspicious look in answer, but then the man darted a look around and seemed to realize he was in trouble. His gaze was wary when it met Sam's again. " _What_ are you?"

Sam only stopped himself from rolling his eyes by remembering that he was a member of the Royal Family, adopted or not, and he should act in a manner becoming of that rank. "I'm sure we can talk about that much more easily when you're not fighting to keep your head above water." He raised an eyebrow, and the man flushed.

"I don't trust –"

"Anyone, yes, I got that." The human had all the bearings of a hunter, the same look Orion used to have when he was teaching Sam the trade. "Let me just get you to shore, and you can spend the time in between deciding if I'm a threat or not. Though, given that I saved you from being killed by a demon, I'd think you could give me _some_ benefit of the doubt."

The man bristled, didn't answer for a long moment. His arms made little splashing sounds as he continued to tread water, and Sam made no move to help until finally he answered, in a very grudging voice, "Fine."

Sam was careful not to smirk.

He swam fast, even burdened down by the human's strong hold and the way his face was buried in Sam's neck. In what seemed like no time at all, he was coming up to the beaches of shore, a place the humans called Key West. There was no one around for miles, so he dragged himself half out of the water even as the man released his desperate hold and stumbled onto the sandy beach before falling to his knees in relief. He looked shaken and exhausted, but he was alive, and far less pale than he'd been when Sam first found him.

"So, uh, thanks," the human said, turning over so he could lean back on his elbows and look at Sam. His eyes were drawn immediately to Sam's tail, which twitched in response, flapping above the small waves and coming down with a splash in the water, emerald scales glinting brightly in the late afternoon sun. The man's eyes – nearly the same shade of green as the scales they were focused on – went wide and, if Sam wasn't mistaken, almost reverent.

It wouldn't do to preen, so instead, Sam offered a small smile. "I'm just glad I could help." He should leave, he knew he should have left before the human ever got a good look at him, but something kept him here, made him pause and tilt his head and say, "So, I assume you have a name?"

There was a long pause before he was finally graced with a response. "Dean," the hunter said. Sam was intrigued by the way the flush crawled up his skin, into his neck and then his cheeks. "Dean Winchester. What about you?"

He didn't even think to lie. "My name is Sam."

Dean snorted. "A mermaid named Sam?"

"I am a Son of Triton," Sam said, bristling, drawing himself up as much as he could in the shallow water, "and you should respect me as such. I'm not a… _mermaid_."

"Uh huh." Dean smirked. He was looking better, coughing only intermittently as he leaned back and let the sun dry him. "You got the tail and the gills, buddy, all that's missing is the seashell bra."

Sam gaped at him. "You…how dare you? I should drag you right back out to sea and let the sharks have you! " He glowered at Dean's laughter, but soon found his own lips twitching into a smile he couldn't seem to help.

"Christ," Dean said, flopping down into the sand completely. "I'm arguing with a mer-dude. A _mer_ -dude. How the fuck is this even my life?"

"If it helps, I've never really spoken with a human, either," Sam admitted, turning onto his stomach in the moist sand so he could prop his chin in his hand and gaze speculatively at Dean. "I'd say that for a first experience, this isn't so bad." He'd avoided land all his life but meeting Dean somehow almost made this worth it. The sun, warm on his skin, was becoming a welcome addiction already.

Dangerous.

"Yeah, sure, minus the almost drowning." Dean gave a self-deprecating snort that led to another round of coughing.

"You were fighting a demon," he ventured, tallying himself a point at Dean's startled look. "One powerful enough to have spies under its thrall. You can probably be forgiven for nearly being killed, considering the circumstances."

Dean stared for a long moment. "You're a hunter. A goddamn mermaid hunter."

Sam glared, but he feared it lacked the heat to do more than make Dean smirk some more. "Down below, we don't call ourselves by that name, but yes. I'm a protector to my people and my home." Sam breathed out, willing tensed muscles to relax. Dean wasn't a threat, he knew that. Some part of him knew it intrinsically, down to his very soul. He knew he could be honest with the human. "I'd just taken out the demon's pet spies and was on my way to finish the job, if I could, when I found you instead."

Dean frowned. "So the demon –"

Sam's tail slapped against the water, betraying his own agitation. "It's gone already. It probably made landfall well before we arrived. You can't catch it right now, and I definitely can't. Be grateful you're still alive; I doubt it will expect that. If you catch it again, you'll at least have the element of surprise." He didn't say that he wished he could hunt the demon with Dean. Thoughts like that would only get him in trouble.

Dean's scowl darkened his whole face. "Black-eyed bitch. Blamed me for killing her father, and Jesus Christ, I did _not_ need to know they had families in Hell."

Sam tilted his head again, his gaze curious now. "Did you? Kill its father?"

Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked, looking too cocky for a man who'd almost drowned not even an hour ago. "Damn right I did, three years ago. Thing killed my parents. Ain't no way I was lettin' it breathe another second longer than necessary."

Sam nodded, understanding. He'd tracked a kraken for three moons for what it had done to his uncle. Slaughtering it hadn't helped, but at least he'd known it wouldn't live to hurt anyone else. "Well then, I wish you luck hunting its spawn." He glanced up at the sun, which was already far lower in the sky than he'd expected. He needed to get back; he had a long swim ahead, and his family was probably concerned as it was. "It was good to meet you, Dean Winchester, even if the circumstances weren't that pleasant."

Dean frowned, taking his own long look at the darkening sky. "Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, you too." His eyes caught and held Sam's for a long moment. "Thanks again, for the whole," he flapped a hand, mouth twisting up a fraction, "saving my life thing." Now he outright grinned. "Y'know, you're not so bad for something out of a cartoon."

Sam was sure there was an insult there, but he wasn't schooled enough in human culture to know it. Still, that didn't stop him from flipping his tail in what Dean would probably be able to tell was a rude gesture as he levered himself away from the shallow waters and back toward home. He tried to drown out the sound of Dean's bright laughter following him, tried not to look back and see the careless salute and the friendly wave.

But he also stayed close to the surface longer than he should have as he swam away, and didn't even try to convince himself it wasn't so he could feel like Dean was watching him go.

~ ~ ~

Something changed inside Sam after that. He was filled with a restless energy he'd never had before, a buzzing beneath his skin and scales that made him want to swim hard for places unknown and not look back until he'd found…

…something.

Some _one_.

He didn't dare allow himself to think the name. He dreamed of green eyes and an easy smile and a hint of freckles, but in his waking hours, he did his job and tried to shove the hunter as far from his thoughts as he could.

Annora didn't seem to notice anything was wrong, which Sam was grateful for because he had no idea how to explain to his aunt what he was feeling. Giselle and Gabrielle, of course, were too busy simpering at the young mermen who presented themselves at the palace to court the princesses to notice Sam's uncharacteristic quiet.

The only one who watched him more closely than normal was Galen, which made sense, because Galen was the closest thing Sam had to a best friend.

Which was damned inconvenient at a time like this.

Sam didn't even realize he was being followed until his cousin cornered him against the rocky outcroppings that made up the Atlantican border. It was that, more than anything, that drove home the point that he was not okay. Galen had the subtlety of an angry bull shark on a _good_ day, yet Sam somehow hadn't noticed him.

"You're slipping, cousin," Galen said, folding his arms and he gazed at Sam pointedly. He was younger than Sam by two years, but also very used to getting what he wanted when it mattered to him. Sam didn't think he was going to go away easily. "Now why don't you tell me what's going on with you, before we wind up with demons on our doorstep that you're too distracted to fight off properly."

It irked him to know that Galen was right. His instincts were off because of this preoccupation, and that would only inevitably lead to disaster. Maybe talking about it would help, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. "You've never been to the surface, have you, Galen?" His cousin's shifty look, when Sam had only expected an immediate _no_ , set alarm bells ringing in his head. " _Galen?_ "

"Well…perhaps once. Or twice." Galen's tail flipped restlessly, which Sam took to mean that _once or twice_ actually meant half a dozen times at least. Gods. Thoughts of Dean went right out of his head as he gaped at Galen.

"Do you know how dangerous it is up there?" He tried not to shout because that wouldn't help anything, but Galen was the _crown prince_ , and if Annora'd had any idea of this, she would have locked him in the palace for the rest of time. And Sam was supposed to be protecting him!

Galen scoffed, but his indigo-colored eyes were downcast. "I'm careful," he said. "And it's beautiful up there, Sam. Sometimes everything down here is just too much, and I need…a place to think. That's all."

Sam closed his eyes and forced himself calm. He could understand that reasoning. The pressure on Galen probably felt immense sometimes, especially since his father's passing. Even still. "Never again, not unless I'm with you. Promise me, Galen."

The prince's jaw clenched, stubbornness lighting his eyes for a long moment, but then his head tilted and he stared at Sam. "You would go with me? But you hate the surface."

"I'm indifferent," Sam corrected. "I know you too well to think you'll be able to leave well enough alone, and I'd rather know you have someone watching your back if you get into trouble. The gods help me if your mother ever finds out."

"She won't," Galen promised, a promise Sam wished he was capable of actually making and keeping. But that was a worry for later.

"All right then. For now, we should get back –"

"Why did you mention the surface, Sam?" Galen eyed him. "Don't think I've been so sufficiently sidetracked that I can't remember what we were discussing."

Sam had been hoping just that. Of course he couldn't be that lucky, though. "Look, it's not important," he tried. Galen remained unmoving, patiently waiting for the truth. "Damn it, Galen. I…it's a human, okay? I met a human, and he…he's been in my thoughts. That's all."

Galen's eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. "You? A _human?_ How did that even –?"

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. "I saved his life when I went after the eels." Was that only seven days ago? It felt like forever. "We…spoke, after. He's a good man. A hunter." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have stayed so long, it was stupid of me. But he was so easy to talk to. Nothing like I expected humans could be like."

Galen's tail flicked lazily as he considered Sam. "What did he look like?" he asked.

Sam leaned back against the rocks, closing his eyes so he could picture the face again. "Strong features. Green eyes – they reminded me of the coral that grows around Atlantica. Some freckles. He was scruffy, a few days' growth on his face. Lightly tanned. He would be tall, if he were mer."

"Mhmm. And his voice?" Galen wondered.

"Deep. Gruff, but with an undercurrent of gentleness. Teasing, in the right moments." Sam stopped, blinking his eyes open and staring at his cousin. He could feel the flush creeping over his skin.

Galen's grin was knowing. "I think I can stop questioning why you never pay attention to the mermaids back home."

Sam groaned. "It's not like that, Galen," he said, but even he couldn't fool himself into believing it was the truth. It was exactly like that. No matter how moronic that made him.

Galen looked up toward the distant surface, considering, and then back at Sam with a sly grin. Sam didn't trust that look at all, knew his cousin too well to believe that it could bode anything good. And sure enough, Galen winked, shouted, "Race you!" and with a flip of his tail was swimming hard and fast for the surface.

It shouldn't even have been much of a surprise, but Sam wasn't too quick right now, and he floundered for a long moment, gaping after Galen and giving him enough time to get a good head start before he took off after him, wondering just what the hell the prince thought he was doing.

Galen was a fast swimmer, faster than Sam no matter how much he hated admitting it. He made it to the surface in record time, and Sam never had a chance of catching him before the young mer was thrusting hard with his tail and leaping into the air like a rambunctious dolphin.

Sam broke free just moments later and glowered at his cousin, thanking the gods that at least there were no ships around on this particular sun-bright day.

"What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this display?" he asked, folding his arms and watching Galen swim around him in happy circles.

"We're going to see this human of yours," Galen said, more matter-of-fact than Sam had ever heard him. For a second, it was enough of a surprise to stop him from arguing.

Just for a second.

"We're _what?_ " Sam demanded. "He's a hunter, he's long gone by now! And even if he's not, there's no guarantee he'll be anywhere near the beach I brought him to! And, and what if there are other humans nearby, I probably just got very lucky last time! And also, he's _not my human!_ "

Galen eyed him for a few moments. "Mmhmm. Are you quite finished?"

Sam sputtered.

With another wink, Galen turned – unerringly in the direction Sam instinctively knew was the right one, and damn it, how had he known? – and began swimming, cutting through the surface of the water with enviable speed.

Gods above and below, what else could Sam do but follow, to try and ensure the prince didn't get himself into trouble?

It was late in the day already and heading rapidly toward dusk when the sandy beach came into view. From this distance, and without a human in his arms to distract him, Sam realized it must be private, used only by those who had homes on the land. And there was only one large home just over the rise, an intimidating monstrosity made of brick so white it gleamed in the dying sun. Only one human and their family to use this beach, which meant of course Dean would not be here.

And yet…

And yet Galen kept swimming just ahead of him, and Sam thought he could see someone walking along the shore, and it _couldn't_ be, but somehow he just knew that it _was_.

"Dean," he breathed, and then he was all but flying for shore, not even noticing when Galen slowed and let him pass, not even pausing for breath until his tail could brush the sandy bottom even with his shoulders well above the surface.

Dean was standing no more than a dozen feet away, his bright green eyes wide with shock and…something else, something Sam didn't dare put a name to.

"You came back," Dean said, taking a stumbling step forward. Sam couldn't help smiling as he righted himself with a blush. He took his shirt off and threw it back onto the beach before wading out into the water, hesitating for only a brief moment before stepping right up close and putting a hand on Sam's shoulder.

The contact sparked low in Sam's belly, and he shuddered nose-to-tail-fin. "Hi," he managed to say, grinning.

"Gotta say, I never thought you'd come back here," Dean said, eyes tracking all over Sam's face.

"I never thought you'd still be here to come back to," Sam responded, blushing himself at how the words made it sound. As though Dean needed another reason to think he was a freak of nature.

Dean let his hand drop, rubbing at the fine hairs at the base of his neck with a sheepish grin. "The guy that owns this place only stays here a couple months outta the year. Figured after that demon thing, I could use a break, y'know?"

Sam's eyes went back to the imposing manor behind Dean. He raised an eyebrow. "You could do worse for yourself, I suppose."

"Ha!" Dean's grin was wicked. "Right? Wish I could stay longer, but truth is I need to get back on the road and track that bitch soon. Shouldn't have waited this long, but…"

Sam waited, but Dean didn't finish, so he tentatively asked, "Were you…waiting? For me?"

"Maybe hoping. A little." Dean shrugged, what seemed like a self-conscious act. "You're a pretty cool guy, Sam. I guess maybe I was hoping we could…"

He trailed off again. "Yes?" Sam prompted, tail twitching with his impatience.

"Be…I dunno, friends?" Dean's freckles stood out when he blushed like that, Sam was delighted to realize.

"I'd like that," he said. Because he'd never felt so connected to someone as he did to Dean, and he didn't want to lose that, especially if Dean felt it too. As a member of the royal family, even distantly, true friends were a precious commodity for Sam. Most of the mer population trailed after him and his family like guppies but only cared about their lineage, not their personalities.

Dean grinned at him, bright and beautiful as the sun. "So…you never said why you came back."

"My cousin," Sam started, then stopped, wondering where Galen had disappeared to. He looked behind him and saw the prince flopped onto his back in the water, hands folded back to pillow his head. He was smirking, and Sam wondered how much he could hear from that distance.

"Oh!" Dean said, sounding surprised. "I…Christ, I didn't even see him." He laughed, sounding a little bit giddy, and then he squinted. "Is he sunbathing or something?"

"Gods, probably." Sam rolled his eyes skyward. "I don't think I ever realized how much of a troublemaker he was until today. Once he pried the information about you out of me, there was no stopping him."

"So it's him I should be thanking?" Dean asked. When Sam met his eyes again, they were glinting with warm humor.

"Probably," Sam admitted. "I was trying to tell myself it didn't matter, but he can see right through me."

"Aww, you really missed me, huh, Sammy?"

Sam wrinkled his nose at the unexpected nickname, not willing to admit how much he thought he might secretly like it, and didn't answer. The truth was obvious anyway. "Look," he said, "I, ah. Let me give you something." He shouldn't, knew he shouldn't, and he'd never been impetuous enough to go against the voice of reason in his head, but now…

Dean blinked, then watched as Sam removed the corded amulet from around his neck. "Oh, hey, wait a sec," he started to say.

Sam reached for Dean's hand, pressed the little bronze amulet into it and closed his fingers around it. "I've had this for as long as I can remember," he said. "When a mer has something – an object – that means that much to them, it becomes…connected to them, sort of."

Dean was quiet, his eyes wide as he stared at Sam, listening to his explanation.

"I know you have to leave, and I don't expect you'll be near these waters again. Definitely not soon, anyway." Sam tried to ignore the deep twinge of sadness the thought brought on. "But if you ever are, and you want to see me, wear it and come out into the water, and I'll know."

"And you'll come?" Dean asked, his eyes intense. His voice sounded hoarse, almost the way it had after he'd tried to breathe a gallon of seawater.

Sam nodded. "I'll come," he promised softly.

~ ~ ~

Sam hadn't been lying when he told Dean he didn't expect him to return; Dean was a hunter, a _human_ , and Sam was confined to the seas as surely as Dean could only live on the land. Whatever friendship they wanted to somehow develop couldn't possibly be enough to overcome those obstacles.

So when a month passed, he was surprised and a little worried to suddenly be filled with a warmth that spread through his whole being from his chest outward. He knew what it was, although he'd never felt the pull of the amulet before. But now, somehow, it felt like _Dean_. Like his essence, reaching for Sam.

He had come back after all.

For all that Sam had been trying to forget about Dean practically since he left (and for weeks before that, of course), it wasn't a hardship to drop everything, tell Annora hurriedly that he'd forgotten something important he had to do, and swim desperately for their beach.

 _Their beach_ , and he wondered at how easy it was to think of it that way.

It was early, barely even daybreak when he finally surfaced and searched the strand of beach in the distance for his friend. He was surprised again to find Dean much closer than that, only a hundred yards away, leaning back in frayed denim shorts and no shirt, relaxing against the deck of a little ocean skiff. He saw Sam before Sam saw him, was already grinning that wonderful grin of his when Sam darted back under the water and swam closer.

"Heya, Sammy," Dean said when Sam popped up again moments later and pulled himself up the side of the boat. He closed his arms around the steel rails, grinning at Dean warmly.

"You're good at catching me by surprise," he said. "What are you doing back here so soon?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, blushing a little and offering a small shrug. "I dunno. Spent the last month tracking that demon, and after it was over, I just. Wanted to see you. It…Jesus, I'm gonna sound like a total chick here. You're gonna laugh."

"Try me," Sam said, something catching hard in his chest as he wondered if Dean could possibly be feeling a fraction of whatever it was he had been, ever since he rescued the human.

"I don't have a whole lotta friends," Dean said. Sam didn't begrudge him the need to look away, but he couldn't tear his eyes from Dean's face, the hidden truths in his eyes, the honesty written into every line of his face. "Hunter lifestyle, y'know? So…you being here…I dunno, I guess I just want to enjoy that while I can?" He phrased it as a question when it was anything but.

"I can relate," Sam said quietly.

And that was that. After, they spent the day in each other's company and didn't bring up anything so closely resembling feelings again, but Sam was content knowing that Dean felt something, whether it was friendship or otherwise, for him as well.

For a few hours, Sam clung to the side of the boat as they chatted, and Dean stood next to him, leaning back against the railing. When Sam's arms eventually tired, Dean convinced him to hang out on the lounge chairs on the deck if the lack of water wouldn't hurt him. Sam assured him it wouldn't, then flipped himself over the rail and onto the deck, suffering the bit of humiliation it took for Dean to carry him to the chair.

Dean dragged his own chair right next to Sam's, set a low table between them, and taught Sam how to play Solitaire, then Go Fish, then Blackjack, then Poker.

They ate breakfast and lunch and an early dinner together. Sam had never had most of the things Dean made him try, but found he was partial to the steak he grilled up for dinner, and the Caesar salad they had with their lunch.

They talked. And talked. And _talked_. About so many inconsequential things that added up to tell Sam so much about who this man was and where he came from. From listening to some of Dean's anecdotes, he learned about Dean's past. The way he was shuffled between homes as a child in something called the foster care system, and the man who had been his father's best friend, who had trained Dean in the hunt as he'd gotten older. He learned about some of the dreams Dean had lost, and some of the ones he still had. He learned about his car, which he called 'baby', and about the house he still remembered flashes of growing up in in a place called Lawrence.

He learned that when Dean spoke, his hand often went to Sam's amulet, rubbing it almost unconsciously whenever he laughed or sighed or went off on any kind of tangent.

They watched the sunset together, though Sam should have been gone long before then, and when Dean finally carried him over to let him return to his ocean home, Sam couldn't help tugging him closer, an impromptu hug that made both of their heartbeats accelerate and both of their chests exhale with surprised laughter.

"Thank you," Sam said. "For being here today." _For not forgetting about me._

"I'll be back again, soon as I can be," Dean replied, and then let Sam struggle out of his hold and into the dark water below.

"Oh!" Sam said, popping up for a brief moment, just before he began the long swim for home. "Next time you come, bring a wetsuit. And diving gear. We're going swimming."

He winked, waved cheerfully, and dove under the waves before Dean could start sputtering at him.

Sam's heart felt lighter than it had in a long time as he powered his way through the cool waters of the deeper ocean. All in all, he thought, it was a very good day.

~ ~ ~

Sam didn't get to take Dean swimming as planned the next time he felt Dean's call, about a month and a half later, because Dean was sporting a broken wrist and a black eye and a few new bumps on the head. A Yeti, he said, though Sam had no idea what that was. What he did know was that seeing Dean hurt made something hurt inside _him_ , and for the first time, he decided that he hated the idea of Dean hunting alone.

Two months after that, though, Dean kept his word and brought along a set of diving gear, which he said he pilfered from the garage of the man whose house he 'borrowed' when he came here. Sam suspected that was probably where the boat came from as well, though he never asked.

It took Dean a while to figure out how to get everything on and set up, and he cursed so much that Sam had to keep covering his laughter with coughs. But then, finally, he was ready to go, and he dove into the water without further incident.

It was different, like this. Sam had had Dean in the water with him before, but when he took Dean's hand and pulled him beneath the surface, leading him further and further down into the depths that made up his home, it felt…personal. Intimate.

Sam could speak underwater, but Dean couldn't, of course, especially if he intended to keep breathing through the strange apparatus that divers used. Still, his eyes were wide with wonder behind the goggles, and his hand was practically vibrating in Sam's. He pointed wildly as a school of brightly colored fish swam by, and Sam laughed at the pure joy he could sense radiating from his friend.

All told, they only stayed underwater for a few hours at the most, but it was probably the most intense, wonderful few hours of Sam's entire life, and he told Dean so the second they were back on the boat, uncaring how much of a 'girl' it made him sound like to Dean.

"It was pretty awesome," was the only reply Dean actually gave him, but the soft smile said everything Dean probably didn't think he could actually say out loud, and Sam's heart, still fluttering with excitement, started pounding for whole new reasons.

~ ~ ~

It took three more visits before Dean kissed him for the first time, and by then, there wasn't anything surprising about the way he leaned over the rail as Sam was getting ready to go, the way his lips slid against Sam's gently, then with a fierce sort of desperation when Sam made a small sound in the back of his throat and tried to get instantly closer. They'd both known it was coming, the time between Dean's visits growing shorter and shorter, the ache in Sam's chest more noticeable every time he went away again.

It was impossible, it was _insane_ , but whatever it was, it was theirs.

Sam didn't return to Atlantica that night. Instead, he and Dean lay on their beach, touching each other in the brilliant moonlight that shone over water and sand. Dean leaning over Sam, hand trailing along soft skin and shimmering scales as they whispered together and kissed and breathed each other in like they would die otherwise.

Dean's hand found the hidden slits just above Sam's waist, the gills that allowed him to breathe underwater, and his lingering touches to those sensitive places made Sam gasp and writhe and beg shamelessly for something he didn't even understand until it crashed over him in waves of unadulterated bliss.

In return, he slid Dean's swim trunks down, took hold of that heated length of flesh that made Dean so very human. Swallowed Dean's moans and stroked him to completion because he could give Dean this. No matter how different they were, no matter how many things separated them, they could give each other this – this all-consuming pleasure that transcended those differences.

That meant something. It had to.

After, they lay folded in each other's arms, Dean's face buried in Sam's neck, his arm wrapped around Sam's chest, his leg thrown over Sam's tail. They slept in short spurts, waking often enough to exchange more kisses and soft smiles and to cuddle together as close as possible.

"I think I may be in love with you," Sam murmured into Dean's hair, just as the sun began rising over the ocean. Dean was quiet for an uncharacteristic amount of time, stroking a hand through Sam's hair.

Finally, "You think, huh?" The words were soft. Gentle.

"I…It's never happened before," Sam said, feeling his face flush, trying to hide it in curve of Dean's neck. "But I'm pretty positive." Shyly, he met Dean's eyes.

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "Yeah, me too." He nuzzled at Sam's skin, his eyes closing as tiredness overtook him, and Sam kissed him softly to sleep.

He left Dean there on the beach regretfully when he could no longer put off going home. Pressed one last lingering kiss to Dean's mouth and pulled himself back to the water, not daring to look back even once because he feared he'd never be able to leave if he did.

~ ~ ~

Annora may have been too busy ruling Atlantica to notice a few day trips, but even she couldn't miss a night with one of her people – one of her _family_ , no less – missing from the city. No one who lived in Atlantica was foolish enough to stay away from its protective boundaries at night, when any manner of evil was free to prowl the waters.

Which of course Sam knew was nonsense, because monsters were just as likely to prey on an unsuspecting mer during the day as they were at night, but people liked to believe in a time of safety, and so the castle and the homes around it were always checked before everyone retired to sleep.

When Sam returned, the first thing he saw was the look on his aunt's face as she swam back and forth the length of the castle's entryway, worry and fear and anger and a host of other things he didn't feel ready to face right now.

"Samuel!" she cried when she finally looked up long enough to notice him. "Where in the world…" She trailed off, shaking her head and darting forward to embrace him. "You're safe, that's what matters. Are you all right? Were you hurt?"

"No," he said, bowing his head. He felt suddenly so ashamed for causing her worry, when she already had the weight of the entire mer population of Atlantica resting on her shoulders and so few people she trusted to help her with that burden. "My apologies, Aunt Annora. I was scouting, and I lost track of time. By the time I realized how late it was, it was easier to find a safe place to rest and return come morning." 

The lie was bitter on his tongue, but it was so much easier than the truth. How could he possibly tell her that he'd been on land, too busy loving a human to worry about the people he'd sworn to protect here under the sea?

"It's all right," she said, bright blue eyes searching his face. He wondered uncomfortably if she knew, somehow, if she could tell how dishonest he was being. "I'm just glad you're home now. Galen was also very concerned."

Galen. Galen, of course, would have very little doubt where Sam had actually been, but he'd still kept his silence. Sam didn't deserve such loyalty. "It won't happen again," he swore.

But it, too, tasted like a lie.

~ ~ ~

A month passed, then two. The time between Dean's visits had shortened to only a few weeks at a time before this, so the lengthy silence now made Sam agitated. It was bad enough to have Galen trying to reassure him, reminding Sam that Dean was a hunter, and that he knew how to look out for himself even on those awkward human legs, and that maybe he just needed a little space to sort out his own heart the way Sam had been fighting to do.

Sam knew all of this, of course, but hearing it didn't help.

Still, it was enabling him to keep his word to Annora. He had no reason to leave the boundaries of Atlantica except to do quick checks to make sure nothing was hiding in the shadows of the waters that surrounded them, and mostly, all the evil things were staying quiet for now. Which was a shame, because he'd give a tail fin for something to distract him from Dean's uncharacteristically long silence.

There was also nothing to distract him from the mermaids who were watching him more and more with adoring eyes and flirtatious smiles, nor to help him ignore the way his aunt raised her brow at him when he turned away from his admirers.

Two months turned into three, and three very slowly rolled into four, and Sam was giving up hope entirely by the time he finally felt Dean's call.

It was almost night, but that didn't matter now. His promise to Dean was far more important to him than the one he'd made to Annora. He slipped out of the city unnoticed and swam frantically for the surface.

Dean wasn't in the water, wasn't even on the skiff like usual. He was pacing the shoreline like a caged animal, darting frantic looks out at the ocean and then closing his eyes and grasping blindly for the amulet that hung around his neck. Sam stared at him for a long moment, a heavy weight settling into his chest as he wondered if this was it. The thing he'd been expecting so long ago; the last time he'd ever see this man he loved so desperately.

"Dean," he called softly, because whatever they were going to talk about, he wasn't going to do it crawling on the beach. It would be face to face or not at all.

His voice carried over the gentle waves, and Dean's head snapped up, his eyes – colorless in the dark but still so green to Sam's own perception – raking over Sam with something that looked like fear.

Which made no sense. After all this time, how could Dean be afraid of him?

The hunter removed his shoes slowly and waded into the water in cutoff shorts and a threadbare black shirt. When the water came up to his waist, Sam finally swam closer, stopping in front of him with a feeling not unlike dread. Instinct made him long to lean close, pull Dean in for one of those all-consuming kisses they'd shared the last time, but he knew better. His kisses wouldn’t be welcome now, not judging by that look on Dean's face.

"If you meant to end things, you could have just stayed gone," Sam said quietly, his heart already breaking before Dean ever spoke.

"I…" Dean's expression faltered, desperation and fear and hopelessness sparking in those green eyes as his face crumpled.

Sam was already darting forward to catch him even before Dean's knees buckled. He wrapped the hunter in his arms, held him as close as he could, tail wrapping around Dean's leg as though it would help him keep his human anchored. "Dean. Dean, what is it?" he asked. "Tell me what's wrong so we can fix it." He kissed Dean's shoulder because it was safe, regretted it when the man in his arms released a broken sound and tried to pull away. "No," Sam said. "Shh, it's all right. Whatever it is, just tell me, please."

"I didn't know," Dean whispered, and now he was clinging to Sam, his face buried against the side of Sam's neck. "I…Christ, Sam, you gotta understand. I never knew my parents, so I never coulda known…" He stopped, shuddering, and Sam tightened his hold, running a hand up and down Dean's back. In his arms, Dean eased a little, swallowing hard. He didn't lift his face, but he managed to keep speaking. "When I was really young, the demon came. Bobby thinks he was lookin' for something but I guess it wasn't there. He went into a rage. There wasn't anything left." Another tremor. "I was in foster care my whole life. Bobby kept an eye on me, taught me everything I knew, but mostly, I was on my own. I thought…I thought they were it, y'know? My only family, and they were gone. I didn't know, Sam. I swear I didn't know."

Later, Sam would wonder if some part of him had already known. If that was why he found it so hard to speak, to ask, "Didn't know what, Dean?" If that was why he wanted to close his ears against the answer that would come.

Dean did manage to pull away this time, grasping Sam by the shoulders and pushing until there were a few inches of space between them. Inches that felt like chasms. Dean's eyes were fractured as he reached down and grasped the amulet. He was looking down, not anywhere in the vicinity of Sam's eyes, when he said hoarsely, "Bobby's been a friend of our family for a long time. S'why he always looked out for me, y'know?"

Sam nodded slowly, not understanding what this had to do with anything, but willing to let Dean make his own roundabout way to the point.

"Sam, he recognized this pendant." Dean voice cracked as he finally looked up and met Sam's eyes. "He really freaked out about it. Said it used to belong to him, and demanded to know how I got it. Who I got it from."

Sam blinked. "But that doesn't make any sense," he said, laughing a little in his bewilderment. "I mean, I've had that thing forever. He would've had to have given it to me when I was practically an infant! My first trip to the surface wasn't even until I was much older; small children are kept under careful watch to be sure they don't stray too close to humans. It must be different."

"The day you were born," Dean said roughly. He turned away, arms crossing over his chest, Sam circled him, his heart stuttering at the drawn look on Dean's face when Dean sighed miserably. "Bobby said he gave that to my little brother the day he was born, when my parents realized they wouldn't be able to keep him."

"Dean…" Sam didn't even know what to say, besides the obvious. "I'm _mer_. What you're saying…that's not possible."

"He wouldn’t tell me anything else," Dean said. "But Sam, what if…I mean, what if it's true somehow? You've had it forever, you said so yourself. Did your aunt ever tell you where it came from? Where _you_ came from? You told me you never knew your parents, but you never said why. And my little brother…Christ, I don't even remember having a little brother, but he'd have been four years younger than me. He'd be _exactly_ your age, Sam." Dean was shivering in the light breeze coming off the water, and Sam wanted to hold him so badly. But what he was saying…

"No," he whispered. "Dean, _no_. I don't know this Bobby person at all, but he's wrong. It's a coincidence, a…really freaky coincidence. That's all, okay? That has to be all."

Dean gazed at him unblinkingly, mouth twisted in an unhappy grimace. "You really believe that?" he asked. "'Cause if you do, I'll let this go, right now, okay? We'll never talk about it again. But Sam, if there's even a chance…" He ran a hand down his face, groaning. "I have to know."

It couldn't be true. It _couldn't_. But…if it were…

Oh, gods.

"I should talk to my aunt," he said weakly. "I don't know how… But you're right. It would be better to know."

Dean nodded, stumbling back a step in the water before Sam reached out and grabbed his hand, yanking him back against him. "Sam…"

"I don't care," Sam said, and then his mouth closed over Dean's, and he swallowed the human's soft noises of protest. Held him until Dean gave in and kissed him back, clinging to Sam the same way Sam was clinging to him. "I don't care," Sam whispered again into Dean's mouth.

And if Dean felt differently, Sam was at least able to make him forget for a time.

He wondered, distantly, in the clouded haze that fell over him as he loved his human as well as he knew how, if perhaps he _should_ have cared. Even just a little more than he did.

~ ~ ~

He made it back before dawn this time, and spent the next few hours patrolling the borders around Atlantica because he knew there was no possibility of sleeping. By the time the merfolk began to awaken, he was no closer to knowing how to broach the subject with his aunt – gods, he still didn't even know what he should be feeling right now – but Dean was waiting, and he knew he didn't have a choice.

He found Annora in her study, bent over one of her precious manuscripts. When she wasn't looking after her people, she was a historian, and she took great pride in knowing the origins of Atlantica.

"Ah, Sam!" she said, turning to give him a small smile. "I wondered where you were, but Frederick said he saw you patrolling early this morning. Nothing amiss, I hope?"

He shook his head. "No. Just couldn't sleep."

Now she straightened, gazing at him in concern. "You seem troubled. Is it something I can help with?"

Well, he'd never have a more perfect opportunity, would he? He took a breath, staring down at the bright seashell floor of the study. "I…well, I've been wondering about my family, lately," he said quietly. "I just. I need to know about them, Aunt Annora."

He only addressed her as such when it was important, personal, and she sucked in a breath that he heard even from across the room. "Sam…"

"Please." He looked up, fixing her with a beseeching gaze. "I know you don't like to talk about them, but isn't it time I know why?"

She sat down heavily in her chair, her tail flicking agitatedly as she folded her hands together. "I suppose you're right," she sighed, seeming to brace herself. "You were descended from the last of King Triton's daughters, Ariel." Sam's eyes widened; there weren't many who didn't know the story of Triton and his daughters. The royal family was _named_ for the great king, even; Sam had known himself as a Son of Triton since he'd been old enough to talk. Annora continued, "Ariel was the first and probably only mer to ever leave Atlantica, which she did to be with her human love. The curse was that, because of who she was, what she had been, every now and again there was a child born into her line who was mer." Annora's eyes found his. Her gaze was steady. "Those children have always been given to us, to keep safe and protected under the sea."

Gods, it was true. "So…my family was…human?"

"Yes, Sam," Annora replied gently. "Your mother was named Mary, and my cousin, your father, descended from Ariel's union with Eric Winchester, was John."

"Winchester." Sam's voice was weak now. "John and Mary Winchester." He swallowed hard. "Did I…did they have any other children?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I simply don't know. We never have much opportunity to speak with our family above, and Mary and John were too distraught to say much more than 'goodbye'. It was a hard thing for them, giving up their son." She paused, then continued with a reluctance he didn't understand at first. "They meant to come on your fifteenth birthday. We set up a signal so we would know, and Orion and I would take you to the surface so you could meet them. But…"

"They never came." _Because they were dead._ Gods above, his whole life… How different would things have been if…

_Don't think of that._

_Don't._

"I wish I could tell you more." Annora swam forward, folding him into a gentle embrace. "Do you at least understand now?"

"Yes," he said. "I do. Thank you."

He had to tell Dean. He had to tell…his brother.

His _brother_.

 _I don't care_ , he reminded himself, and it should perhaps have frightened him to realize that it was still true. All he cared about right now was that he needed Dean. It didn't even matter how, he just needed him close. He needed him _now_.

~ ~ ~

Dean dropped heavily to the sand, his eyes distant. Sam didn't begrudge him, even when it meant he was forced to pull himself from the water and over to the human. He was exhausted, the miles-long swim taking a toll after three trips in a relatively short span of time, but he understood.

"Dean." He spoke quietly, pressing a hand to Dean's chest, right over his heart.

"Shit," Dean said, closing his eyes and bowing his head. One hand came up, clutching at Sam's, holding it so tightly Sam wondered if he was going to break bones.

He would take the pain gladly, if it helped ease Dean's.

"How can you just…not care?" Dean asked, his voice gravel-rough, the way it had been the first time they ever spoke. This time he was drowning in emotion, not water, but the effect was the same.

Sam looked away, staring unseeingly at the cloudy sky, the birds he'd never had many chances to take notice of, the roar of planes passing far overhead. "For so many reasons, this was forbidden from the start," he said. "To me, in the scheme of things, this really doesn't change anything."

He looked back into Dean's wide green eyes. "Whether I call you my brother or not, it won't change how I feel about you. And…" He hesitated only a moment. "We're only brothers by blood, Dean. But I never knew you as family. I never got to grow up trailing after you, annoying you when you were trying to make the moves on some mermaid, pestering you to swim with me when I was bored after school. You weren't the one who taught me how to swim faster or speak to sea urchins or play with dolphins. _I_ was the big brother, to Galen. I know what that bond is, and we never got to have it."

It saddened him, and surprised him a little when it did so. They should have had that, Dean should have always been there. But there was nothing they could do to change it, and in its place… 

"As it stands, I would rather have this," he said, soft and sure, and this time Dean met him halfway for the kiss.

~ ~ ~

It took time to find their balance again. A relationship engaged in secretly, only able to see each other when time permitted, pretending that nothing had changed when somewhere, even within Sam, things irrevocably had.

It wasn't easy, but they made it work.

Dean wasn’t one to talk about his feelings overmuch, but he was the one who haltingly told Sam about their parents, what little he remembered of them, more sensations than real memories. And he was the one who said this maybe explained the instant connection they'd felt that first day, what seemed like a lifetime ago. And he was the one who expressed his love for the first time after the revelation.

All of it meant more to Sam than he thought he'd ever know how to express.

And so, slowly, they rebuilt and reformed around these new truths they learned, incorporating them into the ones they'd already known. What it all boiled down to was that they loved each other, without reservation, and that was not going to change.

If the separations grew harder, if their time together never seemed like enough, if Sam's heart felt like it was being split in two every time he left Dean's side… He grew adept at pretending otherwise, for his brother's sake.

For a while, it was enough.

~ ~ ~

Water wraiths weren't supposed to actually exist, but apparently no one had ever told that to the one viciously attacking Sam now.

He had his knife, but what good was that against a shadow? Likewise, there was no way to tackle something without form, nor was it possible to capture it.

For all his troubles though, _it_ seemed to have no problems attacking _him_. Which, he thought as he dodged the thing's brutal claws, was really rather typical.

They were too close to the Atlantican borders, and that was the thing that really worried him. The palace was in sight, and if he failed to kill the wraith or at least lead it away, he knew it would go after the mers next. But all of his attempts to do either had been thwarted too easily, and he was tiring fast.

"Sam!" he heard, and in the moment he recognized Galen's voice calling to him, that was when the wraith struck.

He gasped, doubling over as its claws raked down his side and across his gills, and clutched at the wound to try to stem the flow of blood he could already feel pumping from it. Where the wraith had struck, his flesh was already burning cold, and it was spreading even as he took note of it, paralyzing him as the creature watched and waited with malevolently gleeful eyes.

"Galen," he tried to call. "Stay back!" But the words barely even reached a whisper, and his cousin wouldn't have listened anyway, speeding toward them like a torpedo, fury in his eyes and his hands clenched around some sort of weapon.

Sam's vision was darkening around the edges, either the blood loss or whatever was in the creature's claws making it so hard to stay awake, but he fought against unconsciousness as Galen reached them and slashed at the wraith with one of his father's spears. It was lit with the glow of Atlantica, the light any of Triton's bloodline could summon to his city or his weapons. And it was when that glow made contact with the wraith's skin that it finally, _finally_ began to shriek in agony.

 _Light_ , Sam wanted to say, but understanding had already dawned in Galen's eyes. He moved with efficiency and cold calculation, drawing the creature's attention to him and then slowly bringing it away from Sam, further and further. He taunted as he dodged, angering the wraith more with every word, until finally he broke away from the fight and flapped his tail powerfully, darting for the surface and the sun.

Where Sam had failed, Galen succeeded. The wraith followed him.

Sam tried to move, to help, but he was already sinking to the ground below, his energy spent, every breath of air feeling like shards of glass in his side. The last thing he heard was the wraith's dying scream as Galen led it straight into the sunlight.

~ ~ ~

He heard Dean's call long before he woke, and so in turn was crying out for Dean from the moment he was able, thrashing even as the pain broke over him in waves and a hand settled over his brow.

"Sam, you must lie still." That was Annora's voice, calm and soothing even against the echo of Dean's frantic calls.

"Where…wha –?" He cut himself off, whimpering and trying to curl in on himself as the pain bit deep in his side. He was stopped by the soft bindings strapping his tail and his arms down on the soft seabed of the palace's healing area. Recognizing where he was was the only reason he didn't immediately begin to fight harder. His chest tightened as Dean's call came again, but it seemed gentler now than it had. A softer call, warm and enticing instead of the desperation he felt like he remembered before he'd woken.

"You've been unconscious for two weeks, Sam. I'll not have you undoing the healers' hard work now. Calm down, please," his aunt implored, and Sam tried.

"I need to…Dean…" How long had Dean been calling for him? Sam had to get to him, had to let him know he was all right. "Please, I can't…" But every word was a trial, every breath a new bout of suffering. He'd never make it to the surface, let alone the miles to shore.

His cousin came into his line of sight, looking worriedly over his mother's shoulder. Something in Sam relaxed, seeing him safe, though until this moment he hadn't even remembered how he'd ended up this way. It came back to him in a rush, the wraith's screams still ringing in his ears.

"Galen," he breathed, and Galen swam around to his side, grasping Sam's hand and squeezing it hard.

"I'm glad you're all right," the prince whispered. Sam felt the tremor that ran through him.

"You as well," Sam said. "You were amazing. You saved my life."

Galen flushed, but he was grinning a little. "I was trained by the best." He cleared his throat. "I. I have a message for you," he said. "A demand, really, that you…" Here, he paused and shot an apologetic glance to his mother, who was watching with a raised brow. Turning back to Sam, he continued, "That you get yourself better and get the hell back there so he can beat the crap out of your idiotic ass."

Sam coughed out a desperate, painful laugh. That sounded like his Dean. How on earth had Galen known to find him?

Seeing the question in his eyes, Galen's lips quirked up again. "You were calling for him in your sleep. You hurt yourself thrashing about, trying to get to him. I knew he must have called for you. Even if you were unaware, some part of you knew." He glanced at his mother again. "I should go, I have a patrol to finish."

Galen was patrolling by himself? The crown prince? Sam's wide eyes followed him out of the room, and then he turned to his aunt.

"Galen will be fine," Annora assured him, though her eyes still held the worry she couldn't quite hide. "My son is as headstrong as his father ever was, and when he sets his mind on something, there is no changing it. He proved himself capable of defending himself – and his people – when he saved my equally stubborn nephew's life a fortnight ago." She let out a breath, smiling wryly. "I think it's time I let him have the freedom to be the man he has become, don't you? He will, after all, be king someday."

Sam blinked at her, at a loss for words. Maybe he was still unconscious, dreaming her saying these things he'd known for some time but never expected her to admit. But the pain didn't feel like a dream.

"And now," she continued, eyeing him with that raised brow again that made him gulp now the same way it had done when he was a small child. "Galen tells me your human is quite worried for you," she said. There was none of the anger in her voice Sam might have expected, only understanding, and a bit of sympathy. "You should have told me, Samuel."

"I know." He let out a breath, impossibly grateful that he hadn't had to be the one to explain, even if it made him feel like a coward. Guilt he'd been feeling for months continued to eat at him even now. To quell it, he tried for a bit of his own honesty. "I love him, Aunt Annora. I love him so much it's like a physical ache."

"A human, Sam." She sighed, shaking her head, looking…resigned, somehow.

"I know," he whispered, closing his eyes. Dean was his. His family. His brother, his lover, his _soulmate_ , and yet they were separated by the very things that made them who and what they were. Love should have been able to overcome anything, but how could it overcome this? Like now, when the thing he wanted most was to have Dean by his side, helping him recover, and it was the one thing he couldn't have.

She patted his hand. "Such is the curse of your family, it seems. But, Sam…" She hesitated. "I urge you not to do as Ariel did, making a decision so hastily. She loved Eric truly, but she always mourned for her lost life. Mers…we are tied to these waters in a way no human can understand. I fear if she'd thought more about it, she may have chosen differently."

"What?" Sam blinked, then understood what she was saying. "No! No, gods, I don't want to leave." He didn't, he _couldn't_. He wanted to be with Dean more than anything, and maybe the life of a land-dweller would be bearable with Dean by his side, but the world above could never be home. "I…I don't know what to do," he admitted.

She gave him a long look, searching his eyes and seeming to find whatever it was she sought in them. "I don't say this lightly, Samuel, but I trust your judgment above all others, save Orion before his passing. And you trust this human of yours, yes?"

"With my soul," he said, honestly. It wasn't enough to encompass the sheer amount of faith he had in Dean, not really, but he knew Annora would understand. She had loved Orion just as deeply.

She nodded. "Then I'll tell you this, and this too I do not say lightly. The trident works both ways. It is not limited to mers alone."

The trident. The _trident_ , the symbol of all Atlantica, the powerful relic that hadn't been touched in centuries, since Triton himself, and she…she meant for him…

And then the rest of her words sank in, and he became so lost in the shock of it, the _idea_ of it, that he never even noticed her quietly leave him to his thoughts.

~ ~ ~

Sam was trapped in the palace for three more days, forced to lie still and let the healers' poultices do their trick before he finally convinced Galen to release the bindings. It was an untold relief, when he darted up from the seabed and swam in loops around the room, testing his movement and flexibility.

There were three long scars that trailed down his side and over his gill, still red but not as angry looking as they had been when he first woke. He was incredibly lucky, he'd been told, that the gill still worked properly and his breathing wouldn't be impaired at all. But all he really cared about right now was that he didn't feel any pain anymore. That was good enough for him. "Tell Annora I'll be back before nightfall," he told his cousin, and of course Galen was smart enough not to try and stop him.

He was tired when he neared the familiar shore, but that hardly mattered when he saw Dean sitting along the water's edge, letting the waves lap over his bare feet. Sam's insides went bright as a burst of sunlight, and he swam the last bit of distance feeling like he was flying. He knew the moment Dean caught sight of him, felt the jubilant call through the pendant clasped in Dean's hand, and then he was there, yanking himself onto the beach and throwing himself into Dean's arms. They flopped together onto the sand, Dean laughing and holding him as tightly as he could, one leg curling around so his foot could trail up and down the length of Sam's tail while his hand repeated the motion along Sam's spine.

"I was so fucking scared," Dean breathed, the words hot against Sam's neck.

"I'm sorry." Sam turned his face, desperately seeking Dean's mouth, the comforting taste of his kisses. "I'm sorry," he said again, letting Dean kiss the apology away.

Dean swallowed hard, pulling back and grasping Sam's face between his hands, staring at him, drinking in Sam's face like he was dying for it. "You ever do somethin' like that again, I'll go down there after you, and not being able to breathe ain't gonna stop me. Got it?" He closed his eyes, his jaw clenched. "I hate this, Sam. I hate that I can't be with you, watchin' out for you. What I wouldn't give…" He stopped, swallowing again, his eyes filled with desperate longing when they finally opened and met Sam's again.

Sam's heart rolled over in his chest, giddy and fearful with the thoughts still swirling around inside him. It was too much to ask, it _had_ to be too much to ask, but… "Do you mean that?" he whispered, couldn't help but ask anyway.

Dean kissed him again, softer this time, and whatever Sam felt just melted away, giving way to the passion and love that burned so damn brightly between them.

How could he let fate try to keep them apart?

He ducked his head, his lips grazing Dean's collar, and he steadied himself with the scent of the man who'd become his whole world. "I need to tell you something," he said.

~ ~ ~

An hour later, when Sam finally stopped speaking long enough for Dean to get a word in, the human didn't even hesitate.

"Do it," he said, green eyes lit, new excitement, anticipation, _hope_ pouring off of him in waves Sam could practically taste.

"Dean, you need to take a minute to think about –"

"No, I don't." Dean kissed him again, because he'd clearly learned it was a surefire way to get Sam to stop worrying. Or talking, at least. His limbs were trembling, but there was no fear in his eyes. " _Do it_ ," he repeated. "And don't you dare ask if I'm sure."

"It may not work," Sam warned, his voice small, trying so much not to hope too hard. "The trident –"

"I don't care, " Dean growled, pinning Sam into the sand, staring down at him like he was trying to imprint his determination in Sam's mind.

"But everything you care about…Bobby, and your car, and hunting…"

"Sam."

Nothing else this time, just his name, but the tone of his voice… And that was when Sam finally understood. He gazed up at Dean in wonder, finally allowed a small nod, a promise that he wouldn't try to find another argument. He didn't know why he'd tried at all when this was what he wanted so much. What _they_ wanted. "I'll try," he said, his voice cracking. "I'll try, and I'll pray every second while I am that it works. I have to go get –"

Dean jerked his head, grinning, and Sam found his gaze sliding toward the water, where Galen was waiting with a smile of his own, his arms over his chest, one hand grasping a heavy golden object that could only be the trident. It was glowing in the young prince's hold, creating an iridescent shimmer over the water around him.

Sam felt the laughter bubbling out of him, slightly hysterical, and he dove desperately off the beach and into the waves so that he could throw his arms around his foolish, wonderful, beloved cousin.

"Come into the water, Dean," Galen called. He met Sam's eyes, held the trident out to him, and blinked in confusion when Sam pushed it back.

"I'm of Triton's blood, but the trident is your birthright," Sam told his cousin softly. He looked toward Dean, who'd stripped off his clothes and was wading hesitantly into the water, a determined edge in his eyes. "And I would be honored if you did this for us."

Galen blinked, looking down and flushing. "The honor would be mine, Sam." He chewed on his lip for a second before looking up again. "Do you think…?"

"It'll work, Galen." He clapped Galen on the shoulder once, bending to press his forehead to the prince's in impossible gratitude, and then he swam to Dean.

Dean was in the water up to his stomach, his eyes on Sam. "So…"

Sam pulled him into his arms, buried his face in Dean's shoulder. "It won't hurt," he promised. "Just hold onto me. I love you, Dean."

Dean held him. And against the background hum of the trident's long-forgotten power, they met in a kiss, clinging to one another, losing themselves in each other as the water around them swirled golden and tingles raced along their skin.

When Dean gasped and lost his balance, falling forward as the change overtook him, Sam was already waiting to catch him.

  
**~ epilogue ~**   


Sam hid his smile at the look on Dean's face as he took in the crowd gathered before him. Admittedly, there were more than usual, all the people of Atlantica gathered in the Great Hall to meet the newest member of their home. Even the children had come, playfully swimming in and around their parents in what looked like a rousing game of tag.

Nervously, Sam cleared his throat. At his side, Annora gave him a small smile of encouragement, and Galen leaned around her to grin as well. Behind them, Giselle and Gabrielle were too busy staring at Dean to take much note of Sam's nerves, but that was all right. He frequently had the same reaction when faced with his lover, who bore the weight of the admiration with the air of someone who was far too practiced at it.

And sure enough, Dean caught their gazes and winked, and their giggles were enough to get Sam talking.

"People of Atlantica," he called out to the assembled mers. "This is Dean. He is family, a Son of Triton, and I ask that you all recognize him as such, whatever you know or think you know of his story. He is my brother in arms…" He paused, casting a warm, secretive look at Dean. He didn't, couldn't, turn his gaze from him as he continued. "More than that, he is my intended."

Dean's eyes sparkled even as his face flushed, and he knocked his tail against Sam's gently, more of a love tap than the smack Sam knew he was in for as soon as they were alone.

 _Intended?_ Dean mouthed, oblivious to the shouts and murmurs and congratulatory cries of their people. It felt like somewhere far away his aunt was now speaking, welcoming Dean to their household and their lives, but Sam wasn't paying any attention to her or any of the rest of the world around them.

"You are mine," Sam whispered back, "and I mean for everyone to know it."

Because from this moment forward, he had a plan. Whatever happened, wherever this strange and wonderful new path in their lives took them, they would be together. Living happily ever after.

  
**~ The End ~**   



End file.
